


Five Times It Wasn't Love (And One Time It Wasn't Romance)

by midnightluck



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Not All Love is Romantic, my headcanon for this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightluck/pseuds/midnightluck
Summary: Sometimes it’s just about finding salvation in people who are differently broken.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i swear i'm still pirate trash, only now i guess i'm overwatch trash too
> 
> Thanks to [galactic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/isthatadeadlizard) for the beta! Any remaining errors are only mine.
> 
> rated for bad words and non-explicit sex, and also yes that's a Hank Williams shoutout

**05 to stay alive**

They don’t so much fall into bed as crash headlong into it. It’s a mess, from start to finish: it was a mess when Jesse tipped his head and tripped on his words, it was a mess when Hanzo mistook his meaning and then took offense, and it was certainly a mess when they got to the kissing, with rather more teeth and drool than expected.

It’s hard and fast, that first time, besides being a mess. They don’t know each other, and they’re not trying to. It’s a fast and dirty fuck to bleed off tension, is all, and the only names called are _archer_ and _cowman_.

It’s not about anything more than feeling, but as far as feeling goes, it’s spectacular.

 

* * *

 

**04 here’s one more**

See, the thing is, Jesse's not really all that together. He’s done some shit, he’s sinned a bit, and he’s taken an awful lot of steps into that darkness. He did it fully knowing, though, because he did it for a reason.

That reason had skin like shadows, shoulders broad as mountains and a voice as dark as dreaming. Jesse once swore he’d follow that back into hell, and he’s had to. He knew every time he accepted the missions what it would do to his soul, but what's a little more blood anyway? So he accepted them and kept taking baby steps into the dark with eyes wide open.

He’s earned it, now; every sin that creeps up his spine, he put there. Every nightmare that digs its bloody claws through his brain, he invited in. Every time he sees a little girl with blonde hair and pink ribbons--well, it's his own damn fault, and only his.

And here comes Hanzo, who has one massive mistake that he made while blinded, at the behest of others, and Jesse _envies the shit_ out of that

He bites that envy into those broad shoulders, and he makes sure it hurts.

 

* * *

 

**03 you ‘n me**

Hanzo’s not over his brother. He’ll never be over it; it’s not the kind of thing one just moves on from. It was massive and awful and he has nightmares about the whispers of the elders and the crunching noise of bones, sometimes.

It was his family that set him on that path, and it was his family that ruined them all, but it was also his family who helped him build his worldview, his instincts, his concept of morals, and his entire belief structure. If they were so wrong about this, what else was lies? He knows he can never trust himself again.

He wakes up in cold sweats and drinks himself back to sleep. He can’t look at Genji these days, but it’s not like he can look into mirrors, either, so it hardly matters. He threw away his honor for the memory of a sin that’s irrelevant now, and he still hasn’t quite forgiven Genji for surviving.

He looks at Jesse, who may be stuck on an island made of denial in a river that runs heavy with regret, but at least he knew where he was headed and had a choice. Hanzo is ever so jealous of him for that.

He rakes that broad back with nails like claws, making his jealousy stand out in raised red lines that last.

 

* * *

 

**02 stuck like glue**

They come to use gentleness as a weapon.

Gentle is for when one of them messes up but good. It’s for when the only thing that would help is the punishment of a good hard fuck, and for when gentle is the last word on their minds.

That’s when it’s slow and easy, with foreplay and proper stretching, with lots of lube and slow, languid thrusts. It’s the last thing they need, so it’s the first thing they get, no matter how much they scream or fight it or need it.

There’s always blood, there’s generally tears, and there’s never any apologies.

In time, they come to understand that it’s never really been about each other. It’s about using the other to fight themselves, and now the lingering teeth marks say, _I'm here, this is real, feel this and stop thinking,_ and the scratches say, _this is your skin, live in it and get out of your head._

It’s almost enough.

 

* * *

 

**01 almost done**

Jesse knows he’s hell-bound. He’s never doubted that. He knows he’ll never get out of this world alive, and he don’t deserve nothing more’n that, anyway. And yet.

And yet here’s this guy who's been screwed over by the world, this guy who doubts everything, who can’t trust himself to tell salt from sugar. Here’s this guy, and he believes in Jesse. And that's--that's not nothing.

And Hanzo, Hanzo knows that he breaks everything he touches. His love is a death sentence, and the only reason he’s still alive is his own self-hatred. And yet.

And yet here is someone who doesn't flinch from his touch, who doesn't seem to fear the plague of bad luck that follows him everywhere. Here is someone who doesn’t care about honor and can touch his skin without hesitation, and to not be feared is--it’s pretty okay.

 

* * *

 

**+01 still no fun**

It's not love, it's just convenience.

Then it's habit, and then it's easy, and then it's familiar, and then they're already too addicted to think of stopping. It's not a fall into love so much as a headlong accidental rush into a hot sticky mess of codependence.

They'll never call it love.

They wouldn't, because love is flowers in the park and serenades at sunset; it's quiet moments in the dark and knowing someone's soul inside and out. Everyone knows that's what love is, and this isn't that; this is _desperation_. It’s less about undying devotion and textbook romance and more about clinging to the thread of sanity with fingertips and nails, and when that fails, teeth.

They snipe and snarl and bite and never ever pull a punch, they’ll never be any kind of romantic, and they will _never_ speak about it. But then again, they don’t need to. Jesse will always be between Hanzo and the enemy and Hanzo will always sacrifice a perch to watch Jesse’s back, because this, in the end, is the basis of any kind of love: the instinct to forever choose each other first.

So it doesn’t matter if it’s not romance and it’ll never matter how many nightmares they share and it won’t even matter if they die tomorrow because there’s more to love than romance, and more to life than love.


End file.
